


Avengers Training (Or, How Spiderman Kicks Everyones Butt)

by Lurafita



Series: Author likes busting clichés [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Peter, BAMF Peter Parker, F/M, Gen, Iron-Dad, M/M, Peter kicks ass, Protective Tony Stark, Son Peter Parker, Spider-son, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark is a stressed dad, creative swearing, dad tony stark, food swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2020-03-13 22:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18932425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurafita/pseuds/Lurafita
Summary: Know that thing in fanfics when Peter joins the Avengers and they train him and all the people who are actually way weaker than Peter wipe the floor with him?Because they have so much more EXPERIENCE?Because apparently being able to bench over 10 tons and dodge bulletfire and walk away from having a building dropped on you and fighting multiple other baddies almost every day just PALES in the face of the superior EXPERIENCE!Yeah, this is not one of those fics.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I get it.  
> Peter is the youngest with the least experience.  
> Yes, he needs training, yes, he needs guidance, but sometimes I get the feeling that people forget or ignore how very formidable of a hero Spiderman can be.
> 
> Please keep in mind that I’m including comic facts in the following:
> 
> For example, Peter is physically stronger than most of the Avengers, with the exception of Thor and Bruce.  
> He is also incredibly durable.  
> His senses are the most enhanced of all the Avengers.  
> He is inhumanly flexible, meaning he can move and bend and react in ways the others are simply not capable of.  
> He can stick to any surface, unless that surface is wet.  
> He has a sixth sense (spidey-sense) that makes it possible for him to dodge a bullet at gun point. (in the comics even the continuous fire of a machinegun)  
> His healing factor is acutally better than Steve’s, as it also grants resistance (and in some cases immunity) to some illnesses and even poisonous substances.  
> His webbing is as strong as steel cable, and people that aren’t at least at his level of strenghts, shouldn’t be able to just rip it apart.  
> He is smart and knows how to think outside the box. In fact this level of thinking has saved the day more than once, when people like Tony Stark or Reed Richards were stumped.
> 
> I have read so many fics where Peter is trained by Natasha or Clint or Steve and they regularly wipe the floor with him, and I just can’t wrap my head around this.  
> Again, I get it, experience is a great thing and it certainly can turn an otherwise hopeless battle in your favour, but it is not an almighty tool. Think of a trading card game. If Peter maxes out in all the stats against other members of the Avengers except experience, his card would still win most of the time. And it's not as if Peter is a complete rookie. He may not have the kind of experience the other members of the team do, but that doesn't mean that he has none.  
> Bruce Banner doesn't have as much fighting experience as the other Avengers do, yet I never see anyone climbing into the ring with the Hulk. And okay, that may not be a fair comparison, considering that the Hulk is pretty overwhelming, but there are still parallels that can be drawn here in highlighting that a higher level of experience can't always be the only thing guaranteeing a win.
> 
> And how exactly is Peter even supposed to learn anything, when he has to hold back so much against his much weaker, very breakable Teammates? (like seriously, if he were to throw a real punch, he would break their bones)
> 
> Of course Peter needs to learn to control his strength and defend and attack without causing too much harm to his opponent, but that should come AFTER he had the chance to really use and get a feeling for his powers and their limits. You can't control something you don't fully understand, and you can't learn anything when you aren't able to test your limits.
> 
> In my opinion, considering Peter’s very impressive skill set, Thor would actually be the best training partner for him. He is a few thousand years old and has more than enough experience when it comes to fighting. He is sturdy enough to withstand Peter letting loose on him, without the Spiderling having to fret about causing permanent damage.
> 
> Then, after Peter has had the chance to really familiarize himself with his fighting prowess and knows how much he needs to pull his punches without loosing his ground by holding back too much, THEN the others can actually teach him some techniques and strategies that he will actually be able to implement into his fighting style.
> 
> And then there are the instances I have read, (again, way too many instances in my opinion) where the others tell Peter to not depend on his spider-sense so much in a fight.  
> Again, I understand where this kind of thinking is coming from, but how exactly is this supposed to work?  
> It’s not like he can turn it off.  
> If in a fight, or sparring match, Peter is not supposed to depend on his spidey-sense, which is omni-present, and his spidey-sense is telling him to dodge, but he is not supposed to depend on it, that only leaves the option of ignoring it. So he needs to ignore/supress the urge to dodge, while being expected to dodge by his sparring partner/trainer. How is that even possible?  
> In fact, every time in the comics that Peter ignored his spidey-sense, was when he got (sometimes badly) hurt. That is just not the way to teach someone how to fight. And it always, ALWAYS gets me so irrationally upset when I read this. 
> 
> Look at that, there I go bitching about popular tropes again. I'm really sorry, I don't mean to step on anyones toes here. I don't want to offend anyone. This is simply my undying love of Spiderman speaking, that was born too many moons ago to ever kill it.

Tags may get updated with the posting of the second chapter, depending on if I will add any more characters.

This fic is the last one in the 'Cliche busting' series, but the first one in the 'Bamf Peter' series. I wanted to keep the universe I have created for the characters to live in, but didn't want to add fics that don't have a cliche busting theme into the series, as that felt like false advertisement to me.

Here a little bit to catch you up: 

  * As with all the other fics in the series, Civil War got resolved peacefully (and Ross is out of office), and Infinity War and Endgame did not and **will not** happen. _**This fanfiction series universe is a happy place. Okay? Good.** _
  * Tony and Pepper share custody over Peter with May. Peter occasionally calls Tony Dad (he might also at one point refer to Pepper as Mom, but Aunt May will always be Aunt May, without the title diminishing the magnitude of love he feels for her)
  * Peter has a male Pitbull named Hope, a shelter rescue dog who was about to be euthanized.
  * Tony has spilled the beans on live tv about Peter being heir to Stark Industries.
  * Peter is acquainted with some of NYPD's detectives and the captain.
  * Tony, being the overprotective helicopter parent he is, has used his, so far limited, access to nano-technology to make a watch for Peter that tracks pretty much everything and can't be taken off by anyone other than Tony (or, in the event of Tony's demise, Pepper, May, Happy, or Rhodey) – See part 1 and 2 of the series for reference.
  * Tony and Pepper still own and live in the Tower, and the Avengers all have rooms (floors) there as well. Due to the events of the second story in the series (the wounds we see and the scars we don't) May and Peter have also taken up residence in the tower (more specifically on Tony and Peppers floor, where they have their own living spaces). Though right now this arrangement is temporary and the two might move back into their house in Queens eventually.
  * Since **I ignore Infinity War and Endgame** , neither Tony nor Peter have nano-tech-suits. (Though they might at some point)
  * I have stolen the concept of the X-Men's Danger Room. Though it is only mentioned here and not really utilized in this chapter.
  * Also, the identities of other vigilantes are known to the Avengers (part of the fixed Accords thing)   
  * Last but never least, my very favourite part of this series, Peter swears in food names. Shit = Skittles, Damn = Donuts, Hell = Hot Dogs, Fuck = French Fries or Fruit Loops, any kind of name calling, i.e. Bitch, Ass, Fuckface, etc = Licorice



 

 

**Avengers training (Or, how Spiderman kicks everyone's butts)**

 

“I'm not doubting your engineering capabilities, Tony.”

Came the tired sounding voice of one Steven Grant Rogers, as he and Tony walked along one of the many hallways in the tower. The slightly shorter man beside him let out an annoyed huff.

“Sure as hell sounds like it to me. What the hell is wrong with my specially designed training robots?”

The super soldier sighed.

“For the fifth time, Tony, there is nothing wrong with your robots. All of us have used them in training before. They make for good sparring partners, okay? But at the end of the day, they are just machines. They follow a pre-determined code of defense and attack patterns. Which makes their movements predictable. And while that is fine for regular training, if you really insist on taking Spiderman on our next mission with us, I'm gonna have to be sure that he can hold his own in a real fight.”

The mechanic rolled his eyes.

“There are so many things wrong with what you just said, it's not even funny. You do know that the kid has been doing this for three years now, right?”

“Yes Tony, I know. But infiltrating and clearing out a Hydra base is a little more high profile than Spiderman's regular petty thiefs and kittens stuck in a tree.”

Now Tony almost felt insulted on the kids behalf.

“Oh, right. It's not like Pete ever does anything else than web up purse snatchers and rescue helpless little pets. It's not like he gets shot at regularly, or has to take on a bunch of armed and dangerous people at once.  
He _certainly_ doesn't have enough experience in strategic planning to safely take down a bunch of very organized bank robbers, without getting the hostages hurt in the process.  
And it's not like he has taken care of that Vulture guy, who was running around with alien technology.  
And that time the whole team was in Uruguay chasing down a lead to another Hydra cell, while a crazed scientist made a serum that turned himself into a _fucking Lizard person out of my worst nightmares?_ Spiderman _definitely_ had nothing to do with taking that guy down before he could turn every citizen in New York into his reptile underlings.  
Did you know that Lizard guy could throw cars around like they were golf balls? Can you throw cars around like they are golf balls, Cap?  
Let's also not mention that time the kid had to fight a deranged escaped convict in an armored, weaponized rhino suit that was shooting up downtown Manhattan, _all alone_ , because once again, non of us were available as we were busy traversing the forests of some third world country in search of yet another, who would have guessed it, Nazi hideout. But I'm sure that guy was no more dangerous than your average Joe, stealing grandma's freshly baked cookies. Or how about-”

At this point Steve threw his hands up.

“Okay! Stop! Look, clearly I worded that poorly. I didn't mean to belittle what Peter does. I'm sorry. You are right. The kid has accomplished a lot and he is a formidable hero in his own right. But you are the only one of us who has actually fought with him. He has never trained with any of the other Avengers and all I and anyone else has to go on, are whats in his files and a bunch of shaky Youtube videos filmed by civilians as far as his fighting capabilities are concerned. And obviously that is not Peter's fault.”

He continued preemptively before Tony could open his mouth to further defend his son.

“That other stuff you said is true, too. We have had a lot of missions as the Avengers, that took us out of state for weeks at a time. Which has left vigilantes like Spiderman and others to pick up the slack when something bigger went down here.  
To be completely honest, I can't even remember the last time we were called in for something on the home front, ever since we got the Accords sorted out. And while we have somehow managed to spend enough time with Peter to grow ridiculously fond of him, we have never seen his alter ego in action.  
Spiderman has never called on us for help during his patrols, and as we have already established, all his bigger fights happened when we were out of state.  
_\- Which now that I think about it, is actually slightly worrying and maybe we should talk about that with the team later on_.-  
But my point still stands.  
I know that Peter is an incredible hero, but I don't know what he is _actually_ capable of. When he can handle something on his own, and when someone needs to back him up. When he can be called to back up someone else. And if we are supposed to fight together, that is something I need to know, just as I do with everyone else on the team. Can you at least see where I'm coming from?”

And while Tony would like nothing more than to continue arguing, he could admit to maybe, kinda, sort of seeing the point his friend was making. He sighed.

“Fine. Friday, be a dear and tell Pete to gear up and come to training room 'snooze-fest'.”

“Got it, boss.” The A.I. answered happily.

Steve raised a questioning eyebrow at the shorter man.

“Which one is training room 'snooze-fest'?”

Tony waved a distracting hand in the air, as the two continued on their way.

“The one without all the hard-light holographic technology and force fields and all that other sexy machinery. The boring one. You know?”

He decided to ignore the side-eye Cap gave him.

“You mean the one that we all use regularly?”

“Got it in one, Capsicle.”

Steve just sighed and gave up. He had learned long ago that sometimes, arguing with Tony was like walking backwards in a circle, that would at random intervals turn into a triangle, while blindfolded. Or, to put it in easier terms, a hopeless endeavor.  
They soon arrived at the lower level training room, and just had to wait a few more minutes for Peter. The teen was clad in his Spiderman suit, though was holding the mask in his hand. He smiled upon seeing the two Avengers.

“Hey Tony, hi Steve. Friday said to meet you here?”

The two also smiled at the younger and Steve nodded.

“Hi Peter. You got here fast. We didn't interrupt something, did we?”

The boy quickly shook his head, having made his way to the two adults.

“Nah, I was just skyping with MJ and Ned, but it was nothing important. So, what's up?”

The Captain clapped a strong hand on his shoulder.

“Tony has suggested to take you with us on our next mission. And while I'm in favor of this, I would like for you to do some training exercises with me before hand, for me to properly assess your ability. If that's okay with you, of course. You don't have to join in on an Avengers mission, if you don't want to, or don't feel ready to.”

Steve wasn't sure what reaction he had expected from the kid, but it was definitely not Peter shooting Tony an exasperated look.

“Is this about last month again?”

“You bet your fucking ass this is about last month, punk.”

Surprised, Steve looked at the grumbling billionaire questioningly.

“What was last month?”

As Tony answered, he kept a laser eyed focus on the pouting teen in front of them.

“Last month, this little idiot decided to take down two of the major drug rings in New York. Which made up about 250 armed and ruthless people. At once. Alone.” 

While the super soldier looked appropriately horrified, the spider enhanced teen in question just scoffed.

“I wasn't alone.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“Oh, right! My bad.”

He turned to Steve.

“He wasn't alone. He was backed up by a blind man and a drunk woman.”

Steve's appalled gaze swung back to Peter, who crossed his arms over his chest defiantly.

“Number one, Matt can dodge bullets almost as good as me, and number two, Jessica wasn't _that_ drunk.”

“Are you talking about Daredevil and Jessica Jones?”

But Steve's question was ignored.

“Oh, that makes me feel so much better! The blind guy without a fashion sense knows when to duck and the alcoholic skipped a beer or two. You should have called the police!”

“Wait, I think I remember seeing this on the news back then. They called it the biggest bust of this decade.”

But again, no one seemed to be paying attention to Steve.

“We did! We had them secure the area.”

Peter threw his hands in the air.

“They should have gone in with you! Instead you just made them handle the ones trying to escape out of the warehouse.”

“Well of course! Do you know how many automatic guns these clowns had? The police could have gotten hurt!”

“ **You** could have gotten hurt!”

Just like that the shouting stopped and in its place was an awkward, uncomfortable silence.  
Then Peter deflated.

“I'm sorry, dad. You know I didn't do this to worry you. But Jess got the tip that the two groups were going to throw down that night just before it happened, and we were the only ones close enough at the time. If we hadn't corralled them in that warehouse, they might have taken their drug war to the streets.”

Tony similarly gave a defeated sigh.

“I know, kid. I know. You did good. I just... this is the kind of thing I want you to call me in for, or the other Avengers. And we weren't there. We are just never there when something big goes down here, and then you have to go at it alone and I hate that.”

Peter took the two steps separating him from his father ~~(figure)~~ and hugged him. Which was all the encouragement needed for Tony to wind his arms around his ~~(surrogate)~~ son as well.

“I wasn't alone. I was careful. I'm always careful. I promise.”

Tony held him tighter, buried his nose in the brown curls, and inhaled deeply.

“I know, kid. It's just so.. I can't lose you. I can't.”

Steve would have felt incredibly awkward, if it wasn't such a heart warming scene.  
Who would have thought that the Tony Stark he had met years ago, fighting an Asgardian prince, would one day turn into this man?  
_Really_ , Steve thought, _parenthood becomes you, Tony_.

It took another thirty seconds for the father/son duo to untangle themselves from their hug, and Peter covertly wiped a small tear from his eyes.

“Is that the only reason you want me to come with on Avenger missions? So you can keep an eye on me?”

The teasing smirk on his lips betrayed the fact that Peter wasn't really upset. Tony scoffed, ruffling the shorter boys hair.

“I have a ground breaking technology Stark watch and an A.I. for that. But,... okay. It's part of the reason. I'm just really sick and tired of coming back from nowheresville fucktown, just to be told by my hysterical fiance that you have been wrestling mutated sewer crocodiles.”

“Oh please, like Pepper would ever be hysterical.”

“But I also know that you are more than capable for these kind of missions, and that you would be an absolute asset for the team.”

Peter visibly preened under the praise. It was cute. Then Tony suddenly snapped his fingers and fixed the teen with a suspicious glare.

“Hey, that reminds me, how come May hadn't joined my future wife in being hysterical? Fighting about 250 armed criminals definitely ranks in the top 10 justifiable reasons for being hysterical.”

Peter just grinned.

“Matt distracted her.”

“How the hell did he distract her from something like that?!”

“Remember how I said that he is almost as good as me at dodging bullets? Turns out he got hit by a few. Refused to say anything until the fight was over, then tried to just go home like nothing is wrong. Jessica stopped him and just threw him at me, told me to, and I quote, 'Get the french frying idiot some god donuts medical attention before he croaks like a little butt licorice'. Okay, that's not a direct quote, I may have paraphrased a little. Jess used way more swearwords. Like, _way_ more. So I brought Matt to the tower. He nearly bled out in med bay. Helen wasn't there and aunt May assisted the on-call staff. Seeing that I only had some minor injuries after having to stitch back together a man who was adamantly refusing any kind of anesthetic, and cursed enough to make a sailor blush, probably just had her thankful enough not to stress over it any more.”

And Tony, … just blinked.

Steve took that moment to clear his throat.

“So Pete, what do you think? Just some light sparring between you and me for the start, then we will go from there.”

The teen nodded eagerly at first, but then shot a dubious look at the mechanic.

“What's the threat level?”

Tony clapped him on the shoulder encouragingly.

“'Bout a 5. Remember the training robots from the country music series? Keep that in mind, and you are good.”

While Tony's words did nothing but confuse Steve, something that he should really be used to by now, they seemed to be setting Peter's mind at ease.  
The super soldier decided not to question it and instead waved Peter forward to the training mats.

“Okay, no weapons, no gadgets.”

He was interrupted when the door to the room opened and Natasha and Clint stepped in. Clint shot the trio a surprised look.

“Hey, didn't know anyone would be here. Did we miss team training?”

Peter jumped excitedly up and down, waving to the two.

“Hi Clint! Hi Tasha!”

Because _of course_ Peter was allowed to call one of the deadliest women alive 'Tasha'. The two waved back at the teen.

“Hi squirt.”

“Hello little spider.”

Tony rolled his eyes as he answered Clint.

“Since only a percentage of the team is present, you quite obviously didn't miss team training. Cap wants to ascertain that Spidey is ready to join us for our next mission.”

He got two very different reactions to that.  
  
Natasha nodded simply. “Good. It's about time.”  
  
While Clint had a rather pinched expression on his face. “Don't you think he is too young for that?”

They turned to each other at once. “Really, Nat? The kid isn't even old enough to order a beer yet.”

They ignored Peter's _“Beer is nasty, why would I ever order that?”_ , as Natasha countered

“He has been doing this for a few years already, and has some impressive fights to show for it. He also laid down Castle some time ago.”

_(“Castle?! Frank Castle?! When did you meet that maniac? You fucking fought him?! Are you fucking kidding me?!”_  
_“... eh, you see,... the thing is.... CAP! He said a bad language word!”_  
_“Oh for the love of god, won't anybody ever let me live that down?”)_

“Have you been spying on the kid, Nat?”

“Of course.”

_(“Look, dad, I had to! Mr Castle was about to shoot that mugger!”_  
_“I don't care if that guy points his gun at the fucking pope, as long as you stay the hell away from him!”_  
_“You know Tony, it really wouldn't kill you to watch your language a bit.”)_

“I know you have done more dangerous stuff when you were even younger than him, but that doesn't make it okay to put him in such a dangerous situation.”

“I wouldn't support the idea if I didn't think he could handle it, Clint.”

_(“It's all good. Matt talked Mr Castle out of his murderous rage. I mean, he didn't so much use his words... more like his fists and teeth... and he kicked him a lot... Actually it might have been more of a fight than talking. But Jess said they are always like this. And Mr Castle even apologized to me after. Said I had a mean punch and to call him if I ever needed help.”_  
_“He gave you his number?! You do not need the number of a homicidal maniac, we have Barnes for that!”_  
_“Not cool, Tony. That's my boyfriend you are talking about.”)_

The two long time friends and partners stared at each other for a long moment, until Clint gave in.

“Fine. I trust your judgment. But I want in on the assessment training Cap!”

The archer said loudly in the direction of where Steve stood, as both he and Natasha turned to the other three in the room.  
They stopped short, however, when they were greeted with the sight of Peter having pretty much scaled the blond super soldier, crouching on the tall man's shoulders and holding his phone aloft, while Tony was all but grappling with Steve to get at the teenager, as Steve tried to keep the genius at bay and talk him out of deleting The Punisher from the kids contact list.

It was, perhaps worryingly, not the most bizarre thing they had ever seen.

 

* * *

 

I know that's a rather short chapter, but I know that some people have problems reading longer chapters in one sitting, and this was the most agreeable point at which to cut things off. The meaning of the threat level and the reference to country music will be explained in the next chapter.

The next chapter is already halfway written and shouldn't take too long for me to update here.

However, seeing as we are not yet at the point where the training begins, I would like to know your thoughts on how you think it's gonna go, and whether or not you feel my rant in the notes at the beginning is justified (I do tend to overreact sometimes when it concerns my favourite characters)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It kinda baffles me, that sometimes, when one writer takes inspiration from another writer's story, and puts their own ideas and twists into it, this particular plot becomes a trope. And then other times, when one writer takes inspiration from another writer's story, and puts their own ideas and twists into it, they get attacked for stealing the idea.
> 
> I genuinely don't get this. (Well, no, actually I get it a little bit. Authors put a lot of work and love into their stories and it's only right to have that work be acknowledged.)
> 
> Look, let me explain.
> 
> I write about things I like, right?
> 
> I center my stories around the characters I like the most and create situations that I find exciting or appealing or enjoyable. (Or sometimes even sad or scary when I'm in a particular mood.)
> 
> Point of the matter is: I write what I want to read.
> 
> Which, to me, translates that I want others to get inspiration from my stories.
> 
> I want people to read my stuff and say: "I liked that. I'm gonna write something like that!", or: "This was a nice conclusion, but this story could have played out very differently. I would like to explore an alternate event.", or: "There was this one thing in this story that I would like to put into a different context.", or even: "Well, the idea itself was nice enough, but I don't think it was very well executed here. I would like to try my hand on this."
> 
> Because all of this, would afford me with a wide variety of stories to read that I would likely enjoy. (Not even to mention the great honor and ginormous ego-boost I would feel knowing that something I wrote somehow inspired someone else.)
> 
> So, with having explained my stand on this matter, please see this as blanket permission from me, to make use of anything written in my works of fanfiction you want.
> 
> Any prompt, plot bunny, vague idea, characteristics explored, circumstances written, or full on story of mine that has been published here;
> 
> \- if you want to write something with the same premise, but different development
> 
> \- if you want to write something completely different, but want to use one aspect or characteristic featured in the stories
> 
> \- if you can find any inspiration from any of my works at all
> 
> PLEASE use whatever you need or want from them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here goes. I'm kinda scared to update this.  
> This got way longer and far more involved and deeply introspective than originally planned. I started writing and then it somehow got away from me. The thing is, as the title of the series already hints at, I have some (strong/extreme) opinions and feelings about characters and movies and so on. And those opinions really bled into this chapter a lot. And I don't want to change it, but I know (fear), that some (many) of you probably won't really like it. And I get that. God knows I have dropped fics when I thought that a beloved character was (to my mind) misrepresented by the author. Which is why I will understand if I lose readers because of this chapter.  
> I have split the chapter into two parts, which I will both update together, for easier reading. (Since some people have trouble with long chapters.)  
> Also, I must apologize to all reviewers that I have answered. I was really tired when I did, and I didn't answer your reviews with as much attention and detail as I usually try to do. I'm really sorry about that and promise to pay you more courtesy going forward.

Chapter 2

 

 

It took the assembled group another fifteen minuets to calm Tony down, and the additional promise from Peter that he would only call Castle in the event of an absolute emergency.   
_(Little did Tony realize that Peter's promise didn't extend to texting with the anti-hero. Who would have thought that The Punisher had the most adorable, smartest, little poodle girl ever? He and Mr Castle had already exchanged numerous photos taken of their respective dogs, and compared different dog toy brands. They had even arranged a playdate for Hope and Princessa in Central Park next Saturday.)_

So, after that was finally over with, Steve and Peter stood, facing each other on the training mats. Tony, Clint and Natasha stood to the side, the red haired woman having been entrusted with keeping the teenagers phone out of Tony's reach.

“Alright Pete. We will go three rounds. In the first round, you will be on the offensive, while I will either block, or try to avoid your attacks. Round two, we switch. I attack and you use defense only. Round three will be a normal sparring match, with the goal being to get the other to yield. Depending on how those go, Clint will take over with another assessment regime. That good for you?”

Instead of answering directly, Peter sent another look to his _(in all but blood)_ father.

“Level 5?”

Tony smirked and nodded.

“Just think of them country songs, kid.”

While Natasha and Clint sent the man confused looks at that, Peter turned back to his training partner, a determined expression on his face.

“Ready Captain.”

Steve gave the teen an encouraging smile, before addressing the ceiling.

“Friday? Would you mind giving us a five minute countdown for each round?”

“Certainly, Captain Rogers. First round starting in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0.”

Peter lost no time with launching his first punch, which Steve easily deflected with his arm.

The three spectators in the room watched the proceedings with different expressions. Clint still seemed rather critical about the whole thing, while Natasha followed the movements of her fellow spider with analytical attention. And Tony... was bored.

When Peter almost landed a kick on Steve's unprotected side, that the captain only dodged away from at the very last moment, Clint gave a low whistle.

“Not bad.”

Tony scoffed.

“Please, Pete is still warming up.”

Natasha nodded.

“He has been getting steadily faster in the last minute, and his attacks have become sharper and more direct. He is testing out Steve's range of motion and mobility.”

Her voice was clearly approving. Tony just smirked, and they continued to watch. When Friday informed them that there were sixty seconds remaining, it seemed Peter decided to break through Steve's defense before the time ran out.

Steve didn't know what hit him.

He had noticed Peter's movements getting gradually faster and more precise, but as the last minute ticked by, the kid became a flurry of motion. He was scrambling to keep up with the fast flying fists and feet, barely blocking a kick before having to turn around _(the kid had just casually jumped over him!)_ to catch the fist heading straight at this face, with just enough time to twist his body away form another kick. The position left him unbalanced, however, and Peter's leg caught him on it's return from the preciously avoided kick. One leg swept out from under him, Steve didn't have time to correct his stance, before Peter had ducked down, and shot one open palm into his midsection knocking the air out of him as well as knocking him off his feet. He landed on his back with a thud.

“Five minutes are up. Would you like to start the second round?”

The A.I.'s voice did nothing to shake the super soldier out of his stupor, as he laid there on the mats, staring up at the ceiling and trying to catch his breath.

Damn! He hadn't thought that he had underestimated the kid _this_ much!

He was vaguely aware of Clint whistling loudly, Natasha clapping and Tony laughing and shouting “Way to go, kid!” in the background.

Then suddenly a hand appeared in his sights.

“Are you okay, Steve? I'm so sorry, I got a little too enthusiastic at the end. I didn't hurt you, did I?”

Peter's anxious voice was just the kick in the butt he needed to put aside his astonishment for a moment. He shook his head and grabbed the hand offered to him.

“Nothing but my pride, son.”

He wasn't even surprised when Peter easily pulled him up.

Finally vertical again, he clapped the smaller teen on the shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.

“That was outstanding, Peter, I didn't expect that at all.”

Peter seemed to shrink into himself at that.

“Sorry.”

But Steve quickly shook his head.

“That wasn't meant as a reprimand, Pete. You fought well. Incredibly well, actually. You should be proud of your success, I sure am.”

The brunette's cheeks burned bright red.

“Thanks Steve.”

Said man squeezed his shoulder in acknowledgment, and then took a few steps away.

“Ready for round two?”

Peter nodded and moved into position.

“Alright. This time, defense only. Avoid or deflect my attacks as best you can. Ready?”

Friday started the five second countdown, and they were off. Just like Peter before, Steve didn't waste any time attacking right away. And having had a taste of Peter's abilities in their previous round, decided not to built up his offense slowly, but go all in right from the get go. To his quickly mounting frustration, the teenager avoided every single punch and kick he threw at him.

Now of course, this was only training. They weren't out to hurt each other and consequently, Steve was still pulling his punches. But... he also wasn't holding back that much.

Any other of his usual training partners _(mostly Bucky and Sam, but frequently also Nat and Clint – Tony usually refused to train with any of them, citing an unfair advantage and choosing to instead improve on his armor and their various equipment with Banner)_ would have either already have taken a few hits by now, of at least be struggling to keep up their defense. But Peter hadn't even been forced to block an attack yet. The slighter body of his opponent simply twisted and turned and moved at dizzying speeds and unnatural ways around every single one of Steve's attacks. It was almost like an elaborate dance. At one point, Peter used the still extended leg from another fruitless kick, to boost himself into a handstand, and then flip over the follow up left hook that the blonde had hoped to catch him off guard with.

They were in their last sixty seconds again, when Steve finally realized: Spidey sense, superior reflexes, and a flexibility that exceeded human limitations. The kid could dodge bullets at gunpoint, why wouldn't he be able to avoid the attacks of a single man, albeit an enhanced on.

If he wanted to at least get the kid to have to block one of his punches, instead of simply avoiding them, he needed to employ a more creative strategy.

Or, putting it in simpler terms, fight dirty.

He looked over Peter's head and smiled.

“Hi Thor!”

The teen's reaction was as predictable as it was immediate. Brown eyes blew wide open in happy surprise as he turned around abruptly.

“Thor?!”

The super soldier took the opportunity right away and aimed a punch at the turned head. While he wasn't really surprised when Peter caught his fist before it could make contact, he was still impressed.

Peter pouted.

“That was cheating.”

Steve readily admitted to it.

“It was. And yet you were still able to block my attack. Very good, son.”

His genuine praise seemed to placate Peter, melting the pout from his lips and replacing it with a shy smile.

“Your five minutes are up. Would you like to start round three?”

But Steve shook his head.

“Actually, I need to talk with Tony for a bit. But if you are up to go again, Peter, Clint will take over.”

Peter had no problem with that and waited patiently for the archer to come to him. As Clint started explaining to the teen what kind of exercise he had in mind, Steve had made it over to the other two.

“Alright Tony. Say your thing.”

The billionaire gleefully obliged.

“I told you so. Or, wait! Let me rephrase that into the kind of words an old-timer like you is more likely to understand: I informed you thusly. I would do a little 'in your face' dance, but after the last time I did this during a shareholders meeting, Pepper has forbidden me to ever do it again, under threat of withholding sex. And Friday would totally snitch on me.”

Steve took the ribbing in stride.

“Would I be right to assume that the robots you trained him with, are not the same kind as the ones that we use?”

“Well, I did say 'specially designed', didn't I?”

The captain had to concede that point.

“Okay. I can admit when I was wrong. Obviously, I should have started with this, but could you please explain his training program to me, and how you came up with it?”

Tony sighed deeply.

“To tell you the truth, I didn't have a very good handle on it at the start myself. … Did I ever tell you how I met the kid?”

Curious now, Natasha took her eyes off of Clint and Peter _(the archer had equipped his non-harmful training arrows, wanting to further test Peter's dodging skills when faced with continuous, fast projectiles)_ and turned to the mechanic.

“You only ever told me that you saw some promising rookie vigilante on Youtube and decided to try your hand at mentoring.”

Steve nodded.

“I remember a similar version to this.”

Tony had a kind of pensive look on his face, that held an odd mix of fondness, guilt and old pain.

“Well, that part was true. But the only reason I stumbled over those videos in the first place, was because I had Friday search the internet for any kind of people with abilities, that might be capable of helping me bring you and the others in.”

Two pairs of eyes widened when both Steve and Natasha realized what Tony was referring to.

“The mess with the accords. Before Germany. But I thought you met him after that whole thing, wouldn't Peter have still been 13 then?”

“14. He had just turned 14. He was jumping and swinging around in what can best be described as a slightly oversized pajamas, wearing a mask that actually _impaired_ his sight, because his mutation had dialed up his senses so much, that he was struggling with the higher input.   
First video I saw of him, he had jumped between an out of control car and a waiting bus.   
3000 pounds, 40 miles an hour. He caught it. Stuck himself on the side of that bus and caught the car, buffering the impact. This type of collision, the driver would have definitely been toast, the passengers in the bus? Minor to major injuries for all of them, some casualties as well. The cars in the other lane? Yeah, this could have easily turned into a massive pile up. But there he was, just catching the damn car, somehow evening out the force of impact with his own body, setting the car back down on the street and then swinging away, like it was nothing. And his webs... I thought, if I had this guy on my side, I could put an end to this all. Subdue you without having to resort to unnecessary force, make you understand why we needed the accords. I was all but obsessed, I wasn't thinking-”

Steve shook his head, laying a comforting hand on his friends shoulder.

“We talked about this, Tony. No more playing the blame game. You were right, we  _did_  need the accords.”

“Yes, but you were right, too. The way they were written then, wouldn't have worked. They were well disguised shackles that could have not only kept us from helping anyone, but might have turned us and others like us into governmental puppets. Especially with Ross as the controlling power.”

“I shouldn't have just run the way I did. I should have been more honest with you on behalf of Bucky from the start. I hardly left you a choice.”

“No, I should have-”

Natasha stepped in before it could get any further.

“Guys! We all agreed. We were equally at fault. No more blaming yourselves. Let's get back to the point here. I'm guessing you had Friday hack into the street cameras to find out who was underneath that costume?”

She directed her question at Tony. Thankfully, the two men both laid their argument (hopefully for good) to rest.

“Yeah. Took less than an hour for me to have his full family history on file. I drove to their old, pitiful apartment, met his aunt, and told her some bogus story about Peter having applied for some grant at S.I., and that I was there to hash out the details.  
Then Peter came home and... I had known he was just a kid, but before it had just been the date of his birth, just a number. I guess knowing something and seeing it, are two different things, because when I saw,  _really saw_  Peter for the first time, it suddenly hit me. That was a kid. That was a 14 year old  _kid_ , who had somehow acquired superpowers and  **good god!**  
How fucking desperate had I become to even entertain the thought of dragging a  _literal kid_ into this mess?   
But instead of just making up some excuse of why I had to cut things short and leave right then, I stayed put.  
He played along with my ruse in front of his aunt, and then when we were alone, I confronted him about his little side gig. You should have seen him, trying his best to deny ever even having heard of a _'Spiderman'_.”

He couldn't help the fond little smile that played over his lips at the memory.

“Of course, he had to give it up when I found his ridiculous costume. Then he told me about how this had happened and why he chose to go out and use his powers to help people with them.  
And that he was all alone in this. A crappy costume, web-shooters that he had made from parts out of a dumpster, no back up, no guidance, no help.  
Just a kid, wanting to do the right thing.   
And I thought,  _this is it_. This is why we need the accords, so that people like him, who get bitten by some radioactive spider, or are the victims of rogue emissions from a tesseract, or whatever else this world hurls at you, so that  _these people_  can actually get the help and support they need. I was more determined than ever to bring you back and sign the damn thing, but then Peter said something else.   
I mean, he had been talking the whole time, it's like babbling is his other super power.   
But, he was  _begging_  me not to tell anyone. Said that he had been the one to make the decision to go out and help others, and that his loved ones shouldn't be the ones to suffer for it. He knew about my tumble with the Mandarin, of course. Said he knew that it was likely that as Spiderman, he would make enemies along the way.   
_'I'm not like you, Mr Stark. How would I possibly be able to protect my aunt and friends from someone firing an explosive at our homes? And I really don't want to end up as a guinea pig or science experiment for some crazy dude or something like that.'_  
And I wanted to tell him to cut back on the bad sci-fi shows he was clearly watching, and that something like that wasn't gonna happen.   
But then I really thought about it. The kid was right. People like us, we make enemies. Powerful enemies. The type that know how to hold a grudge.   
And then I thought back on the accords. The things that I had worked into them with our legal team, that would help us, would help Peter.   
And the things that I didn't have a say in, that had been written in by the government, by the military, by Ross. The things that I thought, back then, would get amended and changed over time.   
And then I wasn't so sure anymore. And the thought of what these things in the contract would do to a kid like Peter, what people like Ross would do, that terrified me."

A short silence fell over the three, as Steve and Natasha finally were given the missing pieces to the puzzle that had made up Tony's sudden change of attitude, back then.

"That's what made you step out of the suit. At that airport."

Steve had been so shocked when Iron Man had landed mere feet away from him, on an airport in Germany, getting himself ready for a fight. And then the suit had dismantled around Tony, leaving the genius vulnerable to any attack, without any kind of back up in sight. His friend had looked at him, defeated and desperate and pleading, and Steve had stopped in his tracks.

_"Natasha and Vision are leading King T'Challa on a wild goose chase right now, Rhodey is trying his best to keep the government off our backs for a while longer, and Pepper is stalling Ross. We need to talk about this, Steve. Sort it out. We aren't the only ones affected here."_

Seeing Tony like this, hearing those words, had made the soldier himself take a step back from all the anger and chaos this whole situation with the accords had created within the team, and confront it all with a clearer perspective.   
This was his friend.   
They were a team.   
And they needed to trust each other.   
So he had told Tony about everything they had discovered about Zemo and the other soldiers, and came clean about his suspicions about the Starks assassination. Neither Tony nor Bucky needed Steve to protect them from the truth, but they  _did_  need a friend who wouldn't keep secrets from them.   
They had all worked together, first to stop Zemo, then to proof Bucky's innocence to T'Challa, and then to work out the accords and get rid of Ross. It had been an absolute nightmare at the time, but they had come out of it stronger than ever.

Tony nodded.

"I left the kid's apartment and drove back to the tower, collapsed on one of the couches in the common room, and finally took a few minutes to  _really_  think about all that had happened. Pepper joined me about a half hour later, and I told her everything. Just,  _absolutely everything_. She was the one to come up with our plan of attack, splitting our side up to handle the outside interference, while I went to find you."

Steve gave him a worried look.

"That was risky. You couldn't be sure that I wouldn't have just attacked you."

The dark eyes of the mechanic bored deeply into the blue ones of the super soldier.

"Yeah, but, I decided to trust you. And I'm glad I did."

Words failing him right then, Steve took a page out of Peter's book and hugged the other man. It took a moment for Tony to reciprocate, but as he did, Steve finally found himself saying

"Thank you, Tony."

A drawn in breath, a sharp exhalation, then a barely heard

"You too, Steve."

The two parted quickly after, and were greeted with the smiling face of one Natasha Romanoff.

"Don't get me wrong, Tony, because I'm glad you told us all of this. But you haven't answered the question about Peter's special training."

 

* * *

Like I said, the chapter was a little long, so I split it up. The second part connects directly to this.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don't get me wrong, Tony, because I'm glad you told us all of this. But you haven't answered the question about Peter's special training."

 

Tony actually looked flustered for a second, before he managed to catch himself.

"I was building up to it. Really, do non of you Russian ex-assassins have an appreciation for good story telling?"

He threw a look at Steve as if to say _'See what I have to work with here?'_ , but Steve simply smiled in mock understanding.

"Anyway, so, I had left the kid back in Queens, while we were sorting everything out, but I hadn't forgotten the atrocity of a costume he was jumping around in. So, I made him a new one and had Happy deliver it. Did I mention that I was a really shit mentor in the beginning? Because I was."

"That's a little harsh, Tony. I'm sure you-"

"To be fair, you had a lot of-"

"No, nope. It's the truth. Yes, I had my hands pretty full with everything that was going on, but I made a 14 year old kid a multimillion dollar high-tech suit, and didn't even bother to include a user manual in the package.   
I had Happy handle all his calls and texts, and mostly tried to convince myself that he would be just fine with a more 'hands-off' approach. I mean, I wasn't  _completely_  absent. The suits A.I. sent me regular updates through the Baby-Monitor-Protocol and I would send out an automated Iron Man armor, if it looked like the kid was getting in over his head.   
But that doesn't change the fact that as far as mentors go, I was clearly leaning more to the shitty, neglectful, dismissive side.   
Happy wasn't  _happy_  with his assignment as the kids go-to guy, Pepper wasn't happy that I was encouraging a teenager to go after criminals, and I wasn't happy that the kid was taking on more and more dangerous things, to which I had basically given him the 'go ahead'.   
It got to a point where I  _wanted_  him to screw up. I wanted him to fail at something, bite off more than he could chew, so that I would have a reason to take back the suit and tell him to try again when he was older. Or better, to not try again at all."

He had to pause, shaking his head in anger at his past self.

"Superheroes my ass, we are a bunch of super dumbasses, just waiting for the next big bad to take a shot at us, and that stupid, big-hearted, selfless kid from Queens was too fucking eager to follow right in our footsteps.   
He should have just been a normal kid, you know? Gone to school and met up with his friends and just... just be a kid. Not risk his life saving strangers on the daily.   
And then the Vulture happened. And Pete screwed up.   
I had told him to keep his nose out of the whole thing. Stay put. Don't go after the guy. I gave him no explanation as to why. Just the order, not the reason behind it.   
And of course he didn't listen to me.  _I_ wouldn't have listened to me. But there it was. The kid had screwed up and I took the suit. I was an ass about it, too. Howard was at least a good role model in that regard.   
And then I flew off and patted myself on the back and thought  _'you gotta be cruel to be kind'_.   
At least now the kid won't get himself killed, may even rejoin that school club he had dropped in favor of being Spiderman. Might just enjoy his fucking homecoming dance without worrying about the next villain on the horizon.  
I should have known better. The kid had chosen to use his powers for good  _before_  I ever stepped into his life, why would he stop just because I took back the suit?   
Turned out his homecoming date was the daughter of Adrian Toomes, better known as the Vulture.   
So Pete confronted Toomes again, but this time in his old costume and his dumpster web-shooters.  
No protection, no back up, no help.  
Because  _ **I**  had taken away the suit_."

Self-loathing and guilt was thick in Tony's voice, and his hands were shaking imperceptibly. The memory sometimes still visited him in his nightmares. He hadn't even known at first, about the warehouse. And Peter had probably never meant to tell him, it had just slipped out one day.  _“Well, at least he didn't drop a warehouse on me.”_ If not for that slight tremble in the kid's voice, the barely noticeable grimace on his face, Tony wouldn't have thought it anything more than a throw-away comment. It hadn't taken a lot after that, for Tony to get Peter to spill the beans on the incident. And god...  
Oh god.   
The kid, buried under tons of steel and concrete.   
Peter, stuck under the crushing weight of an entire building, shouting for help.   
His son, alone, helpless.   
  
All this followed up by the plane crash.   
  
No protection.  
No backup.  
No help.  
  
He had to stop, look to the other side of the room, where Peter was gracefully avoiding the barrage of arrows Clint kept shooting at him, laughing as the archer cursed about running out of ammo  _again_.   
He was okay.   
Peter was okay.   
_His kid was okay._

"After that, I knew I had to step up. Be the kind of mentor I should have been from the very beginning. The hero the kid deserved. Gave him a real internship, freed up my schedule in order to spend at least a few hours every week with him to go over all the functions in the suit, took away the middleman and made sure that I dealt with him directly. And, well, you know Pete. It's impossible to spend any extended length of time with him and not completely adore him. Kid just worms himself right in and holds on with his sticky spider paws and before you know it, you are begging his aunt to share custody over him.”

  
Another impossibly fond look found the teenager across the room on the training mats, where Clint was in the process of tying a blindfold over Peter's eyes. Tony wasn't worried. They had done multiple tests on the Spidey-sense. As long as Peter only had to worry about evading the dummy arrows, none would even graze him.

  
A strong hand on his shoulder made him turn his head to look at Steve's softly smiling face.

“I'm proud of you Tony. I'm really, really proud of you. I know you had Peter's best interests at heart, even though you went about it the wrong way at first. But Tony, there is one thing I need to say to you, and I really need you to listen to me very carefully, okay?”

Why did that sound so ominous? And why were blue eyes boring into him like lasers?

“Shoot.”

“Tony, you _still_ didn't tell us about Peter's training.”

Whoops.

So what if he tended to get a little lost when talking about his son, sue him!

“Oh, right. My bad. So then I built him a bunch of training robots.”

He finished what he knew was an absolute travesty of an explanation, with a dismissive wave of his hand.

And just as he had expected, he was met with two incredibly unimpressed stares from one super solider and one super spy.

“Tony...”

The billionaire really admired how Natasha was able to keep a deadpan expression, while making her voice sound like she would devour you whole any moment _(and not in the sexy way)._

He quickly threw his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay, don't get your collective panties in a twist. So, to get an idea about his skill set, I first viewed all the accumulated data from the suit, and then joined him for a few of his patrols. I watched him mostly avoid attacks and flip around a lot, until he had managed to web up his opponents and stick them to a wall or a lamppost or something. So I thought, _'That kid has never been in a real fight.'_ So, first order of business, teach Peter some moves. Piece of cake. I may not be a black belt, but I actually have done quite a bit of hand to hand combat training in my life, you know?  
To make a long story short, the first lesson was horrible. Peter kept simply dodging my attacks, instead of blocking them, or was just taking the hits point blank. He barely countered or attacked on his own, hesitated with pretty much every move, and when he did throw a punch, he held back so much he might have as well thrown a cotton ball. But, I didn't worry about it. It was his first fighting lesson, we weren't that close yet, he was nervous, yadda yadda. But then it was the same for the second session, and the third, and the fourth.   
I was getting impatient, the kid was getting frustrated, and the training wasn't getting anywhere. So I came to the conclusion, that maybe actually _talking_ to Peter about what was holding him back so much, would help speed things along.   
So, the kid told me a bit more about those first few days after that spider bit him. He was really sick for the first 24 hours, but then after that? **Bam!** He wakes up and all his senses are dialed up to eleven. He doesn't need glasses anymore, he can hear the new-born two houses over scream her little lungs out, some scents suddenly make him nauseous, he has an impressive six-pack, and occasionally there is this weird tingling in the back of his head that sends him really mixed signals he doesn't understand and gives him a case of super-anxiety. Top it all off with unintentionally breaking off the handles of the doors he is trying to open, not being able to un-stick different utensils from his hands, and casually crushing his alarm clock when he hits the snooze button. Doesn't take a genius, which I am, to understand that all of that had Peter pretty much freaking out.”

Steve nodded sympathetically.

“I remember how strange everything felt after the serum, but I had been briefed about what to expect, and had a team of doctors and specialists all around me to help get used to things. I can only imagine how it must have felt for a kid Peter's age.”

Natasha looked contemplative.

“But you didn't meet him right after the bite. He must have already had a good grip on things by the time you found out about him, right? How else would he have known that he would be able to catch that car?”

Something cold ran through Tony as he answered.

“He didn't. He saw the car about to collide with the bus and just... jumped in. He had no idea that he would be strong enough to stop it at all.”

Before his two fellow Avengers could pale anymore, Tony went on.

“But he had gotten some control over his heightened senses. There was this old TV show his aunt used to watch: The Sentinel. It centered around some cop who had hyperactive senses, and his anthropology student sidekick, who helped him deal with those. Apparently the show described things well enough for Pete to adopt most of their coping mechanisms and use them for his own situation. Something about picturing dials... Anyway, he had a pretty good handle on his senses, but as far as his strength was concerned?   
Peter was out of his mind _terrified_ that he would hug his aunt that little bit too hard and break her spine, or high-five Ned and knock his shoulder out of its socket.  
He said he came up with the idea of juggling eggs, which all things considered, was really damn clever. It forced him to keep a kind of grip, that was steady enough to catch and throw the eggs up in a controlled arc, but light enough not to crush them. It also improved his hand to eye coordination and gave him a way to hone some of his senses. Needless to say, he went through dozens of cartons until he got to the point where he didn't need to wash the yolk from his hands every two minutes.   
But not breaking eggs while juggling them, and not breaking bones while fighting against another human, are two very different things. The only way of knowing how much force to use to catch an egg, but not crush it, was to experience crushing them. So the only way of knowing how much force to use in a fight without crippling or killing his opponent...”

“Would have been to experience breaking their bones.” Natasha finished.

Tony nodded. “Which is why he never allowed himself to really fight anyone, unless it was the absolute softest punch or kick he could manage.”

Steve also understood where this was going. “But holding himself back to this degree, meant he was losing ground against his opponent, giving them plenty openings for attack.”

“Exactly, which is why he was relying so heavily on his webs. They were a way for him to incapacitate the criminals, without the risk of causing fatal injury. So, when I finally understood the problem, I took a few of the training robots I had already made for the team and overhauled them. Fitted them with special sensors on their exoskeleton, and programmed them to mimic the limitations of a human body. After that, it was almost a breeze. Without the worry of decapitating someone by throwing a left hook, Peter progressed fast. When he felt sure enough of his control to face a human opponent, we got back into the ring and he kicked my ass in under a minute. I was so fucking proud of the kid, I didn't even feel the blow to my ego. Then we created more of the robots together, with different settings and levels, concerning different classes of people or creatures he might have to fight one day. I have a list, wait a sec.”

He tapped a few things on his watch and a small holo screen popped up for Steve and Natasha to see.

 

Level 10: Normal humans with no combat training or experience

Level 9 : Normal humans with some combat training or experience

Level 8 : Normal humans with extensive combat training or experience _(see for reference, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton and Sam Wilson)_

Level 7 : Enhanced people with no combat training or experience

Level 6 : Enhanced people with some combat training or experience

Level 5 : Enhanced people with extensive combat training or experience _(see for reference: Steve Rogers and James Barnes)_

Level 4 : People whose powers (at least in part) depend on technology and often include heavy weaponry _(see for reference: Tony Stark, Scott Lang and King T'Challa)_

Level 3 : Magic people, because their stupid, nonsensical powers are stupidly unpredictable _(see for reference: Wanda Maximoff, Stephen Strange)_

Level 2 : (Non-) humans with extraordinary strength and abilities _(see for reference: Thor, Vision)_

Level 1 : Hulk

 

Steve wrinkled his eyebrows as he read through the list.

“Shouldn't this be the other way around?”

“Nope. The training levels don't reflect on how much of a threat someone is to Peter, but how much Peter needs to hold back in order not to accidentally crush them. And to the kid, that's the most important.”

Natasha frowned.

"But shouldn't Thor be a Level 1 like Hulk?"

"If Pete wasn't so distracted fanboying over our very own Asgardian prince, and holding himself back due to complete reverence, he would be."

“Wait, what about that country music theme you mentioned earlier?”

Tony just smirked.

“Well, we needed code names for the different series, obviously. And you, my man, are definitely country music.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow.

“What am I?”

“Indie Rock.”

She could accept that. 

"OH COME ON!"

Clint's frustrated shout made the three turn around, and they watched as the archer threw his hands up in the air, looking around at the scattered multitude of dummy-arrows he had fired at a _blindfolded_ 17 year old, of which not one had hit the teen. Peter meanwhile was taking off the blindfold, and stretching out his limbs.

"That was fun. Hey, do you think I can borrow your training gear some time? I bet Hope would love chasing after those arrows. The sticks I usually throw break so easily."

It wasn't often that one saw Clint speechless.

Steve decided to seize the moment.

"Actually, you two, I would like to try something. Clint, collect your arrows again, please. Peter, ready your web-shooters. We are gonna go a final round, this time with our preferred weapons." He grabbed his shield from it's place on the wall and then made his way to the other two. "Pete, I want to see how you hold up with more than one opponent, when you have to concentrate on defense as well as offense. I want you to try and incapacitate Clint and me, before we can do the same to you. Alright?"

Both Peter and Clint nodded and readied their gear. As they took positions opposite each other, and Steve asked Friday once more to count them down, Tony suddenly shouted over to them.

"Petey! If you wrap this up in under 30 seconds, I will tell Pep to drive by that bakery on her way back and bring back one of those Black Forest Cakes you like so much."

Steve and Clint really should have been worried when they spotted the unholy glint in the teenagers eyes.

* * *

 

35 minutes later, Tony, Pepper, Natasha and Peter sat around the table in the big kitchen connecting to the common room, enjoying a piece of delicious cake.

"This is fantastic." 

Natasha admitted, after tasting her first fork full of chocolate-cream-cherry greatness.

Peter could only nod his head, as his mouth was currently full of cake. Hope lying under the table was munching on one of the cherries Peter had slipped him. 

"I brought two extra ones, so we will have enough for tomorrow, when Laura and the kids finally move onto their floor. I thought Clint was coming today, to finish on the last preparations for Nathaniel's room? And I thought Friday told me that Steve was here as well?"

Pepper's question was met with three identical grins. 

"They are still stuck in the training room." Natasha smirked.

"They got a little tied up with their exercise." Tony added.

Peter simply stuffed another fork full of cake into his mouth.

 

The End

* * *

 

Thank you everyone for having read, reviewed and left kudos on this work. 

 

 

 


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